

For five years, Gideon—my brother's Beta—and I had a secret.We were supposed to announce our mating at the pack's Winter Solstice festival.Instead, he breathed hot against my ear."Babe, we've been sleeping together for five years. I'm bored with you. Find someone else for the marking ceremony, alright?"I didn't cry. I just gave a calm, simple nod. "Alright."Only because in my last life, I had begged him through tears to complete the bond.After he finally marked me, he grew cold.He never again woke me by rubbing his stubbled chin against my forehead.Even when we made love, he kept his eyes shut, as if he were wit for my life, he left me.He was going to comfort his savior, Aveline. The old wound she suffered saving him had relapsed, sending her into a mental spiral. In that moment, I finally understood.A mark I had to beg for was nothing but a curse, a wound that would never heal.This time, I pulled away with a smile, removing his hand from my waist. "You're right. I'm tired of it, too. We're done."h someone else, just using my body.When I was in agony giving birth to our pup, fighting

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

Riley Miller heads to the bank to withdraw some cash, only to have the ATM swallow her card—thanks to an unhelpful customer service clerk. Her frustration deepens when she discovers that $10,000 has mysteriously vanished from her account. Just when she feels helpless, the malfunctioning ATM suddenly goes haywire… and starts spewing out money like there's no tomorrow.